


Taking a Sick Day

by fiadhfajita



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27664355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiadhfajita/pseuds/fiadhfajita
Summary: This time it's Bucky who's sick. Steve is recovering and obviously Bucky is going to try and hide it from Steve because Steve is the one who needs taking care of, with his illnesses and asthma and penchant for getting into fights in every back alley, not Bucky who can go 3 straight shifts working on the docks.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Taking a Sick Day

**Author's Note:**

> [RE-POST! I accidentally deleted my previous account (ghostlywhitedirewolf) so am now reuploading all my old fics]

-

“Hey Buck, you okay?” Steve asked, narrowing his eyebrows at Bucky’s flushed face and overly red nose.

“Fine, just a long day y’know?” Bucky smiled at him, determined not to worry him.

Bucky knew that he _couldn’t_ be ill. Not now. Not with Steve only just recovering from whatever he had last week, another bout of flu that thankfully hadn’t progressed into pneumonia.

He wouldn’t worry him, Steve had already been complaining about the fact that he couldn’t work, but Bucky had point blank refused to let him apply for anything that involved manual labour. Steve could get sick from a cool breeze, never mind a day at the docks.

Bucky can and _has_ worked three straight shifts to pay for Steve’s medicine when the need arose. Steve was more important than his exhaustion. Bucky would never forgive himself if something happened to Steve because he hadn’t pulled in enough money to look after him.

“You don’t look so good,” Steve commented, moving forward quietly, and, before Bucky could protest, reached up and placed his hand against the larger man’s forehead.

“I’m absolutely fine. Don’t you be worryin’ about me.” Bucky resisted the urge to lean into Steve’s hand, the blonde’s skin so much cooler than his own.

He knew he had the flu, it had been making its rounds of the workers down at the docks, them all working in such close proximity and then him going home to Steve, that it was only a matter of time before he caught it. Being ill wasn’t an option right now, without his wages there would be no way they’d be able to make rent as well as buy food. Steve needed all the strength he could get, not to be starving.

Steve frowned. “You’re awful hot, Bucky. Are you sure you’re not sick.”

“Steven Grant Rogers, I’m won’t tell you again. I am fine. I’m tired and it’s been a long day.” Bucky pulled his work shirt over his head, leaving him standing in his brief’s and a white undershirt before kissing Steve’s forehead. “Come to bed?.”

“You were out so early, I didn’t even hear you leave and you only came back late. Have you eaten? Did you work a double today too?” Steve asked, allowing Bucky to pull him over to their bed before crawling into it, curling into Bucky’s strong frame as the brunet wrapped his arms around him.

“I ate, Tim’s wife brought leftover sandwiches from that diner she works at. Sorry I couldn’t bring some, there was barely enough for the two of us. I worked a triple, ship was landing early so I thought I’d get a couple more hours in while you were sleeping.” Bucky mumbled tiredly, pressing his face into Steve’s short hair, running his hands up and down the smaller man’s back in an attempt to sooth the tense muscles he felt there.

“Buck, you didn’t have to do that, I have some money saved. I know you spent your wages on my medicine and you shouldn’t have to kill yourself to make rent.” Steve looked up at him, gently taking hold of Bucky’s chin when the brunet averted his eyes.

“I..” Bucky started, voice muffled as he turned his cheek into Steve’s palm, nuzzling at it softly. “I just thought it would make it easier.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a burden, Bucky. I should just leave, you’d be so much better off on your own without me to look after all the time.” Steve released Bucky’s face, staring pointedly at the other man’s sternum, running his hand over the v just above it.

He felt Bucky tense under his fingers before the other man shifted, his larger hands coming to encircle Steve’s neck gently, his thumbs pressing under Steve’s chin to tilt it upwards before he captured Steve’s mouth in a deep, bruising kiss.

“Don’t you ever say that Steve. I wouldn’t be better without you. I’d be a mess, I don’t know what I’d do. God, just the thought.. thinking you wouldn’t be here scares the hell out of me. Don’t you even joke about leaving because you think it would be better for me. It wouldn’t be. _I wouldn’t be._ You keep me right Steve Rogers.” Bucky told him fiercely, crushing their lips together again until he felt Steve gasp for breath.

“I won’t, I’m sorry,” Steve promised, looking up at the other man before pressing his face into Bucky’s neck. “G’night Buck.”

-

Steve woke to the sound of Bucky retching into their toilet and he jumped out of bed, shivering at the cold air as he made his way into the bathroom. Bucky’s back was shiny with sweat, though Steve could see him shivering as his stomach fought to expel the contents of the brunet’s already empty stomach.

“Oh Bucky.” Steve mumbled sympathetically as he looked at his best friend, Bucky’s hair falling into his eyes and sticking to his forehead as he stared miserably into the toilet basin.

Steve crouched beside him and gently pushed the hair from Bucky’s forehead with one hand, his other hand rising to rub the other man’s back in sweeping circles. “I’m sorry, Bucky.”

“S’not your fault. Between the lads at work and you, I was bound to get it. Give me a second; I’ll get cleaned up. Need to go to work.” Bucky rubbed the back of a hand across his mouth as he staggered to his feet, grabbing the edge of the sink when he swayed.

“Bucky, you’re going nowhere.” Steve told him with a look that dared Bucky to argue. “You can barely stand, you have a fever and you look about ready to fall over. You can’t go onto the docks like this, you’ll hurt yourself or someone else. I’ll go and knock on Lennie’s door tell him to tell the boss you can’t come. You’ve never missed a day before in all the time you’ve worked there, he won’t be too mad.”

“I can’t, we need the money, Steve. I’m okay, honestly.” Bucky shook his head.

“We’ll be fine. I have a bit saved, it’ll be okay. Bucky don’t even think about going to work today. You are so far away from okay it ain’t even funny.”

“But–”

“No buts. I mean it Bucky. You’re not going to work. You’re sick.”

Steve tugged lightly at Bucky’s arm, relieved when the other man relented, his eyelids drooping as he nodded unhappily. “C’mon Buck.”

Bucky followed him back into the bedroom, collapsing back into the sheets, body shivering with fever and over-exertion as Steve pulled the blankets over him before watching as the blond man returned to the bathroom for a cloth.

Steve ran the cloth under the tap, rinsing it off before heading back towards Bucky, resting the damp cloth onto the larger man’s forehead, ignoring the way Bucky cringed at the coolness of the material.

“I’ll get you a glass of water. See if you can keep that down. If you can, we’ve still got some of the bread you brought home, I can make toast or something.” Steve talked whilst he moved, listening to Bucky’s breathing, noting that when he took a deeper breath he doubled over into a coughing fit that ended with a small, barely audible whimper.

“Here, drink this.” Steve said, sitting on the bed and holding out the cup to Bucky, waiting for the other man to sit up before pushing the edge of the glass gently against his half open lips. “Small sips. See if you can keep it down.”

Bucky obeyed quietly, moving his head away after a few mouthfuls. “No more, sleep now.”

“Yeah, sleep now.” Steve nodded, a small, relieved smile playing at the corners of his lips when he realised that Bucky wasn’t going to try to push any more about going to work.

“C’mere, punk.” Bucky said, tugging slightly on Steve’s wrist as he lay down.

Steve quickly placed the glass onto the bedside drawers as he once again found himself encircled within Bucky’s arms. For anyone else, Bucky’s feverish body would have been overwhelming, but Steve took comfort in it, his small body always cold.

Bucky groaned slightly as Steve accidentally pressed his hands against the bare skin of Bucky’s stomach.

“Sorry, sorry.” Steve repeated quickly, pulling his hands back towards himself.

Even through the feverish haze, Bucky smiled.

-

The water came back up five minutes later.

-

“Bucky, you have to eat something.” Steve knew that he sounded frustrated, but Bucky hadn’t been sick for nearly four hours now, he had managed to keep down a whole glass of water, but was refusing the broth that Steve had made him.

“Not hungry.” Bucky mumbled petulantly, arms crossed against his chest.

“James Buchanan Barnes. When I say that to you when I’m sick, you tell me to eat or you’ll force it down my neck yourself. The same applies for you. I will do it, don’t doubt me.” Steve looked at Bucky, who was propped up against the back of their tatty sofa, surrounded by blankets and looking paler than the snow on the windowsill.

“That’s because you can’t afford to lose any more weight. Nuffin’ of you as it is.” Bucky didn’t comment on the fact that Steve is technically too small to force Bucky to do _anything._

“Please Buck? For me? Just eat a little?” Steve pleaded, relieved when the other man sighed in defeat and opened his mouth.

“You’re a terrible cook, Stevie.”

“Shut up, jerk.”

-

“Steve? Hey, Stevie.”

Steve woke to someone shaking his shoulder gently. He groaned and opened his eyes, finding Bucky’s face inches away from his own, Steve’s own face having been pressed ungraciously into the other man’s shoulder.

“Sorry, must have dozed off,” he muttered, blushing.

He was supposed to have been looking after Bucky, how could he have fallen asleep?

“Hey, it’s okay, I feel better now. Must have just been a bug.” Bucky gave him a small smile, still too pale, but no longer shivering or feverish.

“Good. You’re such a child when you’re sick.” Steve said with a smirk.

“Shut up. Your broth tasted like dirty dishwater.” Bucky snarked, running a hand through his own hair, the motion pulling it back off of his face. “Guess your Ma’s bedside manner wasn’t genetic then. You’d make a terrible nurse.”

“Shut up. You’re just an awkward patient.” Steve retorted with a half heartedly angry tone.

“Mmm, maybe. Not used to having to be taken care of.” Bucky admitted. “Don’t like it.”

“Now you know how I feel being sick all the time.” Steve sighed, pulling Bucky’s arm gently around his shoulders to allow him to fit himself into the larger man’s side comfortably.

“I don’t mind taking care of you. Makes me feel like I’m doing some good in this world.” Bucky admitted, pressing a light kiss to the top of Steve’s head fondly.

“You are good, Bucky. Don’t ever doubt that.” Steve leaned upwards and kissed the corner of Bucky’s mouth, feeling the other man’s mouth move under his own as Bucky smiled.

“Thanks Stevie. You’re not so bad yourself you know, for a punk.”

“You’re such a jerk, Bucky Barnes.”

“I know, but you’re stuck with me til’ the end of the line, pal.” Bucky gave him a tired wink.

“I guess I can live with that.” Steve smiled and rested his head against Bucky’s shoulder, content to let his exhaustion carry him back off to sleep.

-

_El fin._


End file.
